Masks of Honor
by Lady K'Lyssia
Summary: Shortly after the crew's visit to the past in Trials and Tribble-ations, Dax, O'Brien and Bashir corner Worf and get him to tell them why the Klingons they encountered had smooth foreheads. Written before the Enterprise episode on the same subject


Author's Notes: This story was originally written for the Star Trek: Strange New Worlds Contest held by Pocket Books  
and before **_Enterprise_** came up with their own solution to the change in the appearance of the Klingons.  
(I like my version better than **_Enterprise_**'s)

This one was submitted thee times before I 'retired' it.

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**_MASKS OF HONOR_**

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Worf sat in the now tribble free bar and relaxed for the first time since Odo had brought one of the shrieking parasites back from the past. At least as much as he ever relaxed--no one in the bar would have noticed any difference in his demeanor. He looked around the unusually quiet room; Morn was in his normal spot, Quark was wiping the bar and the Dabo girl was sitting by the gaming table having a small meal. Lieutenant Dax was walking into the bar followed by Doctor Bashir and Chief O'Brien.

He scowled as the three of them walked up and sat down at his table. "What do you want?" Worf asked.

"You know what we want," O'Brien said. "We want to continue the conversation started on K-Seven."

"What conversation would that be?" Worf thought he knew the answer, but hoped to deflect their curiosity with sullen words."Come on, Worf. What was it--genetic manipulation or viral mutation?" Bashir asked.

"I told you: We do _not_ discuss it with outsiders." Worf stood abruptly, his chair hitting the stairs behind him.

Dax placed a hand on his arm before he could leave the table. "We're not outsiders. We're your friends."

Worf took a breath and looked down at the three faces watching him. The determination he saw burning in their eyes was almost Klingon in its intensity. Dax was right; these were his friends. Friends with whom he had stood in battle and would willingly do so again. He nodded once. "It is a long story," he said.

"We have time," Dax said.

"And, not one to be told here." Worf pushed past Dax and strode toward the exit. The others hurried to follow him.

As the group entered his quarters,Worf glanced at the small mirror on the wall. His reflection met his gaze and he stared at his brow ridges. _The ridges of a warrior,_ he thought.

Klingon tradition said the ridges were signs of a warrior's skill in battle and indicators of honor earned. They were also part of one of the deepest secrets of the Empire. A secret not many, even within the Empire, knew the truth of.

Thinking back to the original conversation on K-Seven, Worf remembered it was only the outbreak of a bar brawl between the crew of the Enterprise and the Klingons that had stopped Bashir and O'Brien from pursuing the question of the brow ridges any further. Now they were here, asking the question once again. And, this time, they had brought Dax with them. Her initial surprise at Darvin's appearance, when they had found out who he was, had told him neither she nor the symbiont she carried had any ideas regarding the truth either. He had been surprised by her lack of knowledge, considering Curzon Dax, the previous host, had been an ambassador to the Empire and had been a close friend to at least one high ranking Klingon officer whose family had been involved in the original events.

Worf hadn't lied when he told his friends it was a long story. It was a story that went back to the overthrow of the Emperor Rucla', a period in Klingon history that was not spoken of anymore. Moreover, if it was, certain facts were deliberately omitted from the telling. It was a period in which the Klingon Empire had almost ceased to exist.

#

As soon as K'Lorik stepped into the ritual chamber of the Great Hall, he felt the sweat begin rolling under his body armor. It dripped off his scalp and ran down his spine. _Qo'nos_ was a hot world, but the heat of the ritual chamber was a challenge in its own right. He glanced at his son, K'relin, standing on his right and saw the sheen of sweat on his skin.

The flickering torch light of the chamber showed the wet faces of Emperor Rucla' and his advisors, standing at the end of the Warrior's Path, as runnels of sweat trickled down their ridges. A few paces from the Emperor stood Mo'liq and his son Lor'qin.

Rucla' glanced at K'Lorik and nodded. "Let those who wish to ascend as warriors follow the Warrior's Path," he said formally.

K'relin and Lor'qin saluted their fathers then moved to the beginning of the path. K'Lorik took his place on the Emperor's right, while Mo'liq, moved to the Emperor's ' took three steps to his right, away from Mo'liq.

"Today, two young warriors have come before us to show us their hearts. This day they will walk the river of blood," Rucla' said.

All those in the chamber saluted the two young men waiting at the beginning of the double line of warriors who guarded the Warrior's Path. "_Qapla'_!" The word echoed in the stone room.

Lor'qin saluted then stepped forward to face the first pair of guardians. "Today, I _am_ a warrior!"

He stood defiantly as the guardians applied painsticks to his sides. When they were removed, he took two more steps. "I must show you my heart!"

He cried out as the second set were applied and held in place longer than the first. His knees buckled, but the young Klingon did not fall as he took the next two steps. "I travel the river of blood!"

The third and last set of painsticks were applied and held in place longer than the first two combined. When they were removed, Lor'qin's knees gave out and he fell to the floor in front of Rucla'.

Everyone waited as Lor'qin slowly forced himself back up. Mo'liq started to take a step toward his son then stopped as Rucla' shifted to his left slightly. Lor'qin swayed as he stood before the Emperor.

Rucla' nodded. "You have shown us your heart and traveled the river of blood. Today, you are a warrior. I salute you." The Emperor raised his right arm to his left shoulder.

K'Lorik nodded to his godson as Lor'qin slowly moved to stand next to his father and they waited for K'relin to complete the Rite of Ascension. He watched proudly as his eldest child demonstrated the same courage and strength as Lor'qin. As K'relin forced himself to his feet, Rucla' offered his hand to assist the young Klingon. He again spoke the ritual words of the completed Rite and saluted the newly initiated warrior. "_Qapla'_, K'relin, son of K'Lorik."

"Before your presentation before the court, I have something to give each of you," Rucla' said. He turned to Chancellor Quinell, who handed him two boxes carved with the Imperial Seal on the lids. The first he handed to K'relin and the other to Lor'qin. The boys opened the boxes together. Inside each was a gleaming _d'k tahg_ dagger, the weapon of a warrior.

K'relin and Lor'qin both bowed deeply before the Emperor.

"Lord Rucla' is generous with his gifts," Mo'liq said.

"When I wish to be; to those who deserve them. Come; let us move to the throne room." Rucla' gathered his cloak around him and left the ritual chamber, his advisors and guards following.

After the heat of the ritual chamber, the cooler temperature, only a degree or two lower than the outside air, seemed to turn the water on K'Lorik's skin to ice as they entered the throne room. He ignored the stabbing pins of cold and made his routine check of the chamber. The Emperor had not used this room for almost two weeks, choosing instead to use one of the smaller meeting rooms. He frowned as he walked around the chamber. At one time, the banners of the noble houses had hung on the walls. Now, alternating banners of dark red and black covered the gray walls from ceiling to floor, creating shadows and hiding places for those who might think to attack the Emperor here. As head of the Imperial Guard, K'Lorik had argued against the banners when his cousin, Rucla', had told him they were going to be put up.

He looked behind each of the new banners and saw the banners of the Noble Houses still there; now hidden by Rucla's house colors. He paused briefly in front of the back wall where the banner with the Imperial Seal had hung. Rucla' had replaced it with his house banner: A red trefoil on a black background with three silver _bat'leths_ overlaid on the trefoil. These were not the traditional three-pointed _bat'leths,_ which Kahless had created, but ones with only two points and a smooth center.

Rucla' had designed the new _bat'leth_ and had ordered the Imperial Guard to use them in place of the traditional style. K'Lorik snarled as he glanced at the weapon stand that had once held the _Sword of Kahless_, one of the greatest artifacts of the Empire. After the _Hur'Iq_ had stolen the sword, the stand had remained empty as a reminder of what had been taken and with the knowledge it would eventually be returned to where it belonged. Today, however, that stand was no longer empty. Today, the _Sword of Kahless_ had been replaced by Rucla's personal _bat'leth_.

K'Lorik continued his circuit of the throne room and paused at one of the four statues now standing in the corners of the room. The statues depicted Rucla' standing on a pedestal of skulls, his _bat'leth_ held over his head in a victorious salute. They were close copies of the statues of Kahless that celebrated his victory over Molar.

He took a deep breath then moved to his post to the right and behind the throne. Humility was a trait not known to Klingons, but this did not reflect glory Rucla' had earned for himself.

Rucla' stood in front of the throne and looked around at his advisors and the others in the room. "Today two warriors have traveled the river of blood and shown us their hearts. They come before us now to swear the Warrior's Oath."

The Emperor gestured to K'relin and Lor'qin who both stepped forward. Together the young men used their daggers to carefully cut the palms of their right hands then bring their fists to their left shoulders in salute. "Beneath the naked stars I stand; a warrior defiant, a warrior alone. My life, my honor, I pledge to thee. It matters not that I die, it only matters what I die for. My empire, my honor, my duty. I am Klingon. I fight with honor. I die with glory. I am Klingon!" The boys spoke in unison, pledging themselves to the Empire.

"Your oaths have been accepted. You have brought honor to yourselves and your houses," Rucla' said. "It is my understanding these two are to be named as successors to their houses."

"That is correct, My Lord," K'Lorik said.

Rucla' stood quietly and studied the two young men before him for a moment. K'Lorik watched as the Emperor glanced at his advisers before speaking again.

"Lor'qin step forward," Rucla' said. The Emperor picked up a gold sash from the arm of his throne. "Lor'qin, son of Mo'liq, this day you are recognized by those here as a warrior and as designated successor to Mo'liq. May you bring honor and glory to your house." He placed the sash across Lor'qin's shoulder.

Lor'qin bowed then saluted the Emperor before stepping back.

"K'relin step forward," Rucla' said.

K'Lorik smiled as his son was recognized as the future Head of House Lynsia by Rucla'. As his designated successor, K'relin would also be expected to take his place as head of the Imperial Guard, when that time came.

A gong echoed through the throne room, announcing the first person seeking an audience this day. The two guards pulled the large stone doors open as the Chancellor entered the chamber. "My Lord," Chancellor Quinell said, "a messenger from Ker'riq."

K'Lorik studied the messenger, evaluating the risk if any he might present. The messenger kept his eyes down, refusing to look directly at the Emperor or any of the others there. He shuffled his feet as he pressed the buttons on the information reader he was carrying.

"What is your report?" Rucla' snapped at the messenger as he continued to work the reader's controls.

The messenger dropped the reader then stumbled as he reached down to pick it up. K'Lorik took a deep breath and frowned slightly at the smirk he saw on the Emperor's face.

The young Klingon, his ridges not yet beginning to develop, squared his shoulders and faced the Emperor. "Our losses continue to grow, My Lord. We have lost ten ships and over five hundred ground troops in the past two weeks. That number could be higher now, as all communications have been blocked by the Mufurian forces." He stepped forward to hand the reader to Rucla'

K'Lorik moved between the Emperor and the messenger and took the reader. After carefully examining it, he handed it to Rucla' and returned to his post.

The messenger stepped back and continued speaking. "It is the recommendation of the High Commander that the remaining forces be pulled back in order to strengthen our line."

"A retreat! The High Commander is recommending a retreat!" Emperor Rucla' rose from the stone throne and glared at the messenger who stumbled backward. The Emperor smiled broadly. "Your life is not forfeit--yet. You are only a messenger for the real coward and therefore you will return to that coward with my answer. There. Will. Be. No. Retreat. Tell him his Emperor expects him to fulfill his duty to the Empire or another will replace him. Until he proves otherwise, I have named him a coward whose honor is in question. I am generously giving him the chance to prove his honor by not removing him as High Commander--yet."

The messenger bowed deeply. "As you command, Lord Emperor."

"Go!" Emperor Rucla' turned his back on the messenger as he left the hall.

K'Lorik closed his eyes and fought to retain his composure. Ker'riq was an outstanding commander; he had turned apparent defeat into victory many times and was used to having autonomous control of the defense forces. Rucla' had insisted on being informed of every detail of the battle and approving every one of Ker'riq's decisions a few weeks into this war. None of the advisors had argued against this, except two. Now, the Emperor and the other advisors ignored those two: K'ran and Mo'liq. He knew the only reason, Rucla' had agreed to preside over Lor'qin's Rite of Ascension was that he was K'relin's best friend and K'Lorik's godson. There was no doubt in his mind; the Emperor would have refused if K'relin and Lor'qin had not scheduled their Rites together.

Rucla' stood and pulled the heavy cloak around him as he began pacing the throne room. He stopped on the Imperial Seal and turned to look at his advisors as they stood next to the throne of Kahless. "Opinions?" he snapped.

"My Lord." K'Lorik stepped forward before any of the advisors could speak. The Emperor's eyes narrowed as he looked at him. He bowed deeply before he stepped past the throne to stand in front of the Emperor. "With all due respect, perhaps we should more fully review the tactical situation Ker'riq is facing. There are times when a strategic retreat is necessary. Kahless himself once said: _Destroying an Empire to win a war is no victory, and ending a battle to save an empire is no defeat._"

"Are you questioning me?" Rucla's mouth tightened as he watched K'Lorik. "Perhaps you wish to challenge me." Rucla' took a step toward K'Lorik. "Do not presume that because your house is also descended from Kahless, you can speak to me in this manner."

K'Lorik raised his head defiantly as he faced the Emperor. He refused to give in to the badgering tone in Rucla's voice. This was a game his cousin played with others; he was not going to let himself be caught. "My Lord, I do not presume to insult or challenge you. Yes, my house is directly descended from Kahless, through his daughter and eldest child, Lady Lynsia. However, Lady Lynsia removed her house from the politics of the Imperial Court. House Lynsia is a house of warriors and we understand the art of war and battle better than many others within the Empire. That is why the Emperor Khalias awarded House Lynsia the right to wear the _Bat'leth of Kahless_." He touched the three-pointed _bat'leth_ badge at his throat. "It is also why the head of House Lynsia has been the head of the Imperial Guard for over three centuries."

K'Lorik paused for a moment then bowed his head slightly. "You asked for opinions, I have given you mine," he said.

The advisors backed away from the Emperor and K'Lorik; they were familiar with this game also. Rucla's eyes darted around the room then he laughed. A deep full laugh that echoed throughout the chamber.

"That you have, cousin," the Emperor finally said. "It is good at least one person here has the strength to speak his mind to his Emperor. Come, let us have lunch and examine the situation the High Commander is facing. The rest of you, go play with your _targs_ until I call for you."

The advisors all bowed deeply then left.

K'Lorik followed Rucla' out of the room and shook his head ruefully. The Emperor's decisions lately were becoming increasingly erratic. This latest decision regarding the deployment of the troops in the war with the Mufurians was only one example.

K'Lorik took a deep breath, as they entered the Emperor's private chambers in the Great Hall.

Rucla' spun around, his hand resting on his dagger. "If you ever speak to me in that manner again, cousin, I will take it as a challenge and I _will_ answer it with my _d'k tahg_!"

K'Lorik took a half step back at the anger in Rucla's voice. "You asked for opinions and I gave you mine."

"You are not one of my advisors; you are only a guard. I do not wish to hear your voice in the throne room again, unless I specifically request it. Leave me!"

K'Lorik bowed his head politely then backed out the door. He glanced at the two guards standing outside the room. "You will be the Emperor's escorts for the remainder of the day," he said.

They both acknowledged with crisp salutes. K'Lorik nodded his approval and returned the salute before turning away.

"K'Lorik," Mo'liq called as he and the two boys walked up. "It is getting late, we should go now. Do not forget there is a feast tonight."

He looked at the two boys and smiled. "K'relin, you and Lor'qin return home. We will join you there shortly," he said. K'Lorik turned to Mo'liq. "We have to talk."

#

The two of them walked into the _Shrine of Lukara_. As usual, it was empty. No shrine guardians lived here and few people ever visited this place.

"Rucla' was not happy with you speaking out today?" Mo'liq asked.

"He promised me that next time he would take it as a personal challenge and settle it with his _d'k tahg_."

"Perhaps you should challenge him," Mo'liq said. "You have the blood of Kahless in your veins. None can deny the greatness of your house or your personal honor."

K'Lorik looked up at the statue of Lukara, wife of Kahless and mother of Lynsia. "It is not something I desire. I am content with ruling my house and leading the Imperial Guard. I do not desire the responsibility of ruling the Empire."

"That is precisely why you should be the one who challenges him. You would not be doing so out of ambition, but out of concern for the Empire. You and I have stood together in battle many times. You understand the true Klingon heart. Honor is more than just a watchword to you--it is a part of your soul. You have accused Rucla' of acting out of selfish motives in the past--who is being selfish now? You have a duty to the Empire." Mo'liq grabbed K'Lorik's shoulder and forced him to face him.

"You do not need to lecture me on my duty!" K'Lorik stepped back, jerking away from his friend.

"Then, what will it take for you to perform that duty?" Mo'liq spoke softly as he asked the question.

K'Lorik turned and walked over to a small statue of Lukara and Kahless, their _bat'leths_ locked together. He wrapped his cloak tighter as the chill in the shrine caused him to shiver slightly. No one understood why, but this one building was always about twenty degrees cooler than the ambient outside temperature. He turned back to face Mo'liq. "We have a more important concern at this time, other than challenging the Emperor. What is the latest report from Clan Q'ong?"

Mo'liq looked around the empty shrine then pulled out a small scanner and checked the area.

"It would have made more sense to do that before this conversation started," K'Lorik said.

"Perhaps. But, it does not matter as there are no listening devices here." He put the scanner back on his belt. "The initial training is completed and the first of the warrior caste have been deployed to augment Ker'riq's forces. We are waiting for his report." Mo'liq paused.

"But..." K'Lorik prompted.

"There has been one unforeseen development, though. The children being born to those with the genetic changes have their ridges developed at birth. This could lose us support with some of the noble houses."

K'Lorik stared at his friend. It was part of Klingon culture that mating did not occur until after the development of the cranial ridges. That a Klingon survived the early part of his or her life to reach that level of maturity was believed to be an indication of their skills and prowess in battle. This ensured only the strong and cunning were able to have children. If the members of the warrior caste were developing their ridges at birth, it could damage that part of the Klingon belief system. Despite this superstition, the ridges had nothing to do with skill, only with Klingon tradition and beliefs. There were those who would see this threat to Klingon culture as a threat to their personal power.

"Have you informed Ker'riq of this?"

"I have. He feels the benefits from the genetic manipulation outweigh the issues of tradition. You've seen the reports," Mo'liq said.

"I have. Our loses are mounting. We cannot continue this way. What did Clan Q'ong say about this development?"

"Their geneticists were a little surprised as well. They expected the ridges to develop at a younger age than they do now, because of the accelerated maturation in the warrior caste. However, they did not anticipate it being this early. Every thing else has gone as planned. Clan Q'ong is happy with the genetic changes their bloodlines will carry."

"How many were sent to Ker'riq?"

"One thousand. Will you wish to continue after this?" Mo'liq looked at K'Lorik and frowned slightly.

"We will wait and see what Ker'riq's report is before continuing." K'Lorik slapped his friend on the back. "Come, we should get going. K'Lia and Relisia will be expecting us for the feast. I don't know Relisia's temper, but I do not wish to face my mate if we are too late."

"Relisia's temper is no match for K'Lia's, but I would not want to anger her either."

Both of them laughed as they left the shrine.

#

"You two are late." K'Lia stopped pacing the small entryway and turned to face them as K'Lorik and Mo'liq entered the feast hall of House Lynsia.

K'Lorik looked at his mate and cringed. Her green eyes were blazing and her arms crossed on her chest. She was wearing the traditional silver trimmed black skirt and tunic of the house matriarch with a slender dagger sheathed at her waist. Behind her, black eyes burning, stood Relisia, dressed in the gray and blue of her house.

"My apologies, my wife." K'Lorik bowed deeply and Mo'liq copied the gesture.

"Apologize to your sons and their guests," Relisia said.

They bowed again to the house matriarchs and entered the hall. K'Lorik glanced at Mo'liq and they both let out the breath they had been holding.

K'Lorik looked around the room and smiled. The room was decorated with the banners of House Lynsia and House Mo'liq. Various weapons hung on display, including the _bat'leths_ of Lady Lukara and Lady Lynsia.

"Today is a day of honor for both House Lynsia and House Mo'liq. Today, those who will lead our houses in the future are warriors. They have completed their Rite of Ascension and have been acknowledged by Emperor Rucla' as the designated successors to their houses." The room erupted in a cacophony of noise as those there signaled their approval by cheering and pounding on the tables. He paused and raised a goblet of bloodwine. "_Qapla'_ K'relin and Lor'qin, sons of K'Lorik and Mo'liq," he shouted over the noise.

The rest of the guests raised their goblets. "_Qapla'_!" The salute echoed through the room.

"Allies and guests of our house, I apologize for being late and acknowledge the honor you have paid to our sons tonight with your presence here. Enjoy the evening with food, drink and tales of honor and glory." K'Lorik raised his arms over his head and the servants began bringing the food out.

"Well spoken, my husband," K'Lia said softly behind him. "By the way, your cousin sent his regrets, but matters of the Empire prevented his attendance tonight."

He turned and looked at his wife. "Matters of the Empire? A political way of saying he is angry with me."

K'Lia gave him a questioning look and he shook his head. "Not at this time. There is a celebration to enjoy."

#

Empty platters were scattered on the tables and floor of the feast hall along with strewn bones and other remnants of the celebration. Pewter goblets lay on the silver cloths, their contents staining the shimmering material with the dark red of the spilled bloodwine. Many of the guests had already departed and the servants were slowly working their way through the debris to begin the clean up. K'Lorik picked up the wooden box next to his elbow and called his son over. "These daggers were a gift from Lady Lynsia, to her son K'lys. Since then they have been given to the designated successor of the house upon the completion of their Rite of Ascension." He handed the box to K'relin.

He watched as his son opened the box and removed one of the two boot daggers. K'relin studied the engravings on the hilt. One side was the Imperial Seal, while the other had the diamond and dagger seal of House Lynsia on it. "May I never dishonor the trust you have placed in me," he said placing the dagger back into the box.

"You are my son. You salute the stars." K'Lorik gathered the boy into a tight hug. "Now, thank your mother for this feast and go to bed. You have an early day tomorrow."

"Mo'liq is on the communications unit for you," K'Lia said picking her way across the room. "He says it is about Clan Q'ong and urgent."

K'Lorik hurried out of the hall to the communications center of the house.

"Mo'liq, what has happened?" K'Lorik stared at the face of his friend.

"The Emperor's troops raided the holdings of Clan Q'ong tonight. Most of them managed to escape, but the project is destroyed."  
"_Hu'tegh!_ What about those already deployed?"

"I haven't heard from Ker'riq." Mo'liq turned away from the viewer as a loud explosion was heard in the background. "Rucla' has sent his troops here. Watch your back my friend." The screen went blank.

"The only ones who knew you were involved in this project were Mo'liq and Ker'riq, correct?" K'Lia asked from behind him.

"Correct. Our house should be safe from Rucla'." K'Lorik turned away from the communications unit and frowned. "But, what of my honor if I do not move to protect those I can from Rucla' and his increasing madness?"

"Why is your cousin angry with you?" K'Lia asked softly.

K'Lorik, looked down at his wife and explained about the events from earlier in the day when he had spoken against Rucla's decision to not allow the regrouping as Ker'riq wanted.

"His ego blinds him," K'Lia said. Despite the softness of her voice, K'Lorik heard the anger and force of her will in those four simple words.

"Mo'liq suggested I challenge him."

"Without provocation? Not a wise move on your part. You must wait until he gives you cause to challenge him. Then none will question your right to do so. Dependent on what your cousin does with Mo'liq you may have cause. Our houses are allied; an alliance bound by blood."

K'Lorik nodded slowly and sighed. "I must prepare for tomorrow." He turned and left the room.

#

K'Lorik hesitated for a moment before striding into the throne room. The Emperor was seated on the throne with two members of the Imperial Guard flanking him. K'Lorik dismissed them with a curt nod and took his post.

"When do your son and Lor'qin report to the Imperial Guard?" The Emperor spoke softly, preventing his voice from carrying to the advisors who were entering the room.

"Two weeks, My Lord," K'Lorik said.

"Where are they now?"

K'Lorik felt his muscles tense at the questioning. "They are hunting near Lursor Lake and out of contact at this time. Do you wish me to have someone find them and bring them to the barracks early?"

"No. That will not be necessary."

"As you wish, My Lord." K'Lorik turned his attention to the main doors of the chamber as the messenger from yesterday entered the room along with two guards escorting Mo'liq. The young messenger smiled as he looked at him before turning his attention to the Emperor.

K'Lorik frowned at the shadow behind Mo'liq and his escorts. Another person, whom he could not see clearly was hidden in that shadow.

"My Lord Emperor," the messenger said, bowing deeply. "Yesterday, I brought you the High Commander's report and received your orders; which have been delivered to him. Today, I am here to report an act of treason that has been perpetrated on you and the Empire. This _person_," he gestured toward Mo'liq, "has engaged in genetic experiments resulting in a perversion of the Klingon race. A perversion that will spread like a disease throughout the Empire."

K'Lorik shifted his position as he tried to see who was standing in the back of the group. There were at least two people there, but he still could not see them clearly. He raised his head slightly and caught the eyes of the guards at the doors. They acknowledged the silent order with nods as they turned their full attention to the persons hidden behind the group. One of the guards brought his hand up to his belt with three fingers raised. K'Lorik nodded once then stepped closer to Rucla'; his hand resting on his disruptor.

"What would this perversion be?" Rucla' asked.

The messenger motioned to his guards, who pulled Mo'liq to the side. A loud muttering came from the advisors and spectators in the throne room and the three previously unseen Klingons stepped forward.

"What is this?" Rucla' rose from the throne.

K'Lorik stared at the three. A young male and female with a young child; all with their cranial ridges developed stood there watching him and the Emperor.

"My Lord, these are all products of the genetic experimentations this traitor has been engaging in for the last two years," the messenger said.

"Two years? How is that possible?" Rucla' approached the child.

"Caution, My Lord," K'Lorik said softly, following the Emperor.

Rucla' walked slowly around the child. "How old are you?" He knelt down in front of the boy.

"My first birthday was three days ago, My Lord," the boy said.

The Emperor reached across and touched the child's cranial ridges. "Why," he said as he stood up. He moved to stand in front of Mo'liq. "Before I have you executed for this, why have you polluted Klingon blood and changed what we are?"

Mo'liq squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. "It was done to save what we are! The changes that were made allow the warrior caste to mature at a faster rate and be ready for battle sooner. The reports from the battle lines are showing staggering loses. If something is not done soon, we will not have enough trained warriors left to prevent the Mufurians from destroying the Empire."

K'Lorik reached up and touched the _Bat'leth of Kahless_ he wore in silent salute to his friend. His hand dropped to his dagger and he took a deep breath. "My Lord," he said. "Mo'liq is correct in his assessment of the casualty reports. Creating a warrior caste could help strengthen the Empire."

K'Lorik stood his ground as his cousin spun to face him. He glanced around the chamber to see those there forming a circle around him and the Emperor. Another deep breath, as he caught Mo'liq's eyes and saw the slight nod his friend gave him.

"I warned you to keep your place." Rucla' drew his dagger and held it in front of him as he faced K'Lorik.

"Lord Rucla', you are my Emperor and my cousin, but my first duty, the duty given my house by Lady Lynsia, daughter of Kahless, is to the Empire. Your decisions of late have shown a pattern of self-glorification--not glory and honor for the Empire. Your council of advisors is made up of sycophants who will not speak negatively of your decisions--no matter the cost to the Empire.

"Your thirst for personal glory has led you to cover the banners of the noble houses, those houses that supported Kahless as he fought to unite the Empire and those houses descended from the children of Kahless and Lukara, with your house colors. You want to claim the Empire as your own and deny our glorious history.

"Kahless himself spoke of the position of Emperor as one of guardianship. It is _your_ duty to guard the Empire and lead it on the paths of honor that Kahless gave us. Where is the guardianship is this?" K'Lorik gestured to the banners and statues. "Where is the honor in that?" He pointed at the _bat'leth_ that rested on the stand that once held the _Sword of Kahless._ "You think to set yourself even above Kahless by placing your sword in the place that held his." K'Lorik drew his dagger slowly and held it in a low ready position: Ready to defend, not in an aggressive stance. He glanced around again. The chamber had grown silent as each person there waited to see what would transpire.

Rucla' shrugged off the cloak he wore, with the badges of the noble houses on it. The garment was picked up by Quinell. As he watched his cousin carefully, K'Lorik twisted the _d'k tahg_ in his right hand so the blade lay along his arm, the tip towards his elbow. He shifted his weight slightly checking his balance. "You may be Emperor, Rucla', but you have forgotten that you have a duty to the Empire also," he said. "Either that; or you have decided to ignore that duty."

"_toDSaH_! I am the Empire and you have stepped over the line, cousin." Rucla' rushed at K'Lorik, the side blades on his _d'k tahg_ snapping out as he brought the weapon up in an overhead arc towards his opponent.

K'Lorik brought his right arm up in a blocking motion, the blade of Rucla's dagger catching on his own. He then brought his left hand up in a swift palm strike to the Emperor's chest. His cousin staggered back from the blow. "You have let your blade rust, cousin. Would an Emperor who actually cared about his Empire allow himself to grow lazy and weak?"

Rucla' lunged and K'Lorik sidestepped, driving his dagger into the Emperor's side as he passed. He wrenched the weapon out and immediately assumed a guard position, waiting. The chamber remained silent, as everyone watched. He risked a quick glance at Mo'liq where he stood in the front of the circle of observers and saw him speaking to the messenger and smiling. _You set me up, my friend. What will it take? Indeed. Nicely played,_ he thought.

The Emperor stood panting slightly as he turned to face K'Lorik. He then glanced at one of his advisors, who moved to the weapon stand, removed the _bat'leth_ then hurried over and tossed it to Rucla'. The Emperor caught the weapon and began moving it in a defensive arc as he approached his cousin.

K'Lorik watched the spinning blade carefully. There were hesitations in Rucla''s motions, light though they were; they were enough to telegraph intended movements. There, a break, only a heartbeat's worth, but a break in the pattern and a twitch to the right. K'Lorik dove to his left, avoiding the overhead swing by a few inches. He pulled a slender dagger out of his left boot and threw it as he fell to the floor. The dagger lodged itself in Rucla's left thigh. The Emperor roared in pain and lashed out with his _bat'leth_.

"No!" K'Lorik yelled as his cousin's blade struck Mo'liq in the chest and buried itself deeply. He lunged for the Emperor and drove his _d'k tahg_ deep into his back. He then pulled another blade from his right boot, quickly reached around, and sliced Rucla's neck. He stepped over the Emperor's body and knelt beside Mo'liq.

"You knew they would find out and destroy the project didn't you?" K'Lorik asked.

"I had a warning from Kheliq." He nodded toward the young Klingon who had come as a messenger from Ker'riq. "It was not enough the warrior caste be created, they had to be allowed to live and develop. Ker'riq and I both knew if Rucla' remained in power, that would not happen. Over one thousand children have been fostered out to various houses throughout the Empire. Our race will survive. We will succeed."

Mo'liq's eyes gradually lost their light and his body went limp. K'Lorik raised his head and howled. His voice echoed in the silent chamber and soon other voices joined his.

"_Qapla'_, Emperor K'Lorik!" Kheliq shouted when the death howl faded.

"No! I will not sit on the throne!" K'Lorik stood and faced the advisors.

"Then the throne must go to one of Rucla's children," one of the advisors said.

"It will not," Kheliq said. "His line is no more."

K'Lorik spun to face the young man. "You had them all eliminated?"

"My father's orders. He knew you would not wish to take the throne, and if one of them survived to claim it nothing would change."

"Who is your father?" K'Lorik demanded.

"Ker'riq."

"Ker'riq? Was I the only person not aware of your plotting?" K'Lorik grabbed the young man by the throat and lifted him off the ground.

Kheliq did not fight the hold, but only nodded. K'Lorik dropped him and Kheliq rubbed at his throat. "Mo'liq and my father knew you would not go along with their plans; that you would need to see Rucla's treachery and incompetence for yourself."

The Chancellor stepped over and handed K'Lorik the formal cloak Rucla' had worn. "If you will not take the throne then who will?"

"I propose a council be created, seats to be given to the oldest of the noble houses and let the people decide who will lead the Empire."

"A democratic leadership? It will never work!" Quinell put his hand on the cloak draped over K'Lorik's arm.

K'Lorik placed his hand over the old man's and smiled. "Perhaps not, but we will never know unless we try. Are we so afraid of change we can not even try a new idea?" He paused and moved to stand in front of the throne. "We have seen what happens when things are not challenged. This is the result." He gestured to the body of Rucla' lying in the floor. "Do we want another leader who cares nothing for the Empire and only for his self-glorification? Of course not. In addition, anyone who would want this position is suspect already. We will let the people decide who will lead them."

#

K'Lorik stood in his usual place behind and to the right of the throne and nodded his head. The experiment had failed. The people had rejected the concept of a democratic government and a new Emperor would be installed today. A search had located those born into the previous Imperial line but never acknowledged. The council had selected one of them to name as Emperor and as head of the High Council, which would remain as the advisors to the new Emperor. The line of succession would be reestablished and would appear unbroken. The names of the new Imperial family had already been changed to match those killed. The only change in the system was; power would not be strictly in the hands of the Emperor anymore, he and the council would share it.

The throne room was once again as it had been. The banner of the Imperial House hung over the empty _bat'leth_ stand on the wall behind the throne. Along the side walls hung the banners of the noble houses that held seats on the High Council. Among those was the brilliant blue banner of House Lynsia with its silver diamond and dagger seal on it. He was now the senior councilor and would be the one formalizing the succession today.

He glanced at his son, standing by the main doors, and nodded. K'relin and Lor'qin opened the doors and the Imperial procession entered.

Whoever he was before today, from this day forward the new Emperor was Krethan, son of Rucla'. The training for this day had gone well; he carried himself with an air of pride and confidence as he led the procession into the throne room.

Young though Krethan was, he had understood the need for the High Council to continue and had appointed K'Lorik as his Chancellor. Despite his youth, there was a degree of wisdom in this new Emperor. He knew he wasn't trained for the position and was willing to learn from those who had experience. He wore the formal cloak of the Emperor and carried Rucla's _bat'leth_. Next in line came the members of the High Council, all of whom would be expected to pledge themselves to the new Emperor. Last in line came the members of the new Imperial family.

The procession stopped before the throne and K'Lorik stepped forward. "Do you wish to claim leadership of the Empire?" he asked.

"I wish it," Krethan replied.

K'Lorik looked out at those assembled in the room. "Are there any who would challenge Krethan's right to claim the Throne of Kahless?" After waiting several seconds, he stepped to the side and gestured to the throne.

Krethan stepped forward and took his place as the new Emperor.

#

"We haven't heard a word you said," O'Brien said when Worf finished the story. He stood up and tugged on Bashir's uniform. "Looks like I was right and you were wrong. You owe me dinner at Quark's."

Bashir stood up and followed O'Brien to the door. "How about a game of darts--double or nothing," he said as they exited Worf's quarters.

Dax waited until the other two had left, then looked at Worf. Ker'riq is one of Kor's ancestors isn't he?" she asked.

"Yes. And, Mo'liq is one of mine."

"I've never heard of this House Lynsia."

Worf looked away for several minutes. "The last head of House Lynsia was branded a traitor to the Empire and the house was made a protectorate of House Veska. Though they are not members of House Veska, both Kang and Kor were also named as guardians of the house."

"Another long story?" Dax asked.

"One it is not my place to tell."

"I appreciate the trust you have shown by telling me this. As do Miles and Julien, I'm sure." Dax kissed him lightly on the check then left the room.

Worf glanced at the mirror again and studied the pattern of the ridges on his forehead. _The ridges of a warrior._


End file.
